


Fireside

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Courting Rituals, Domestic Fluff, Enthusiastic Consent, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Riding, Scents & Smells, Self-Lubrication, Tail Sex, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19444462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Just a month has passed since the last caravan of travelers arrived. It isn't strange really, for the village of Schoenhut is deep within a barrier of woods. Although such a fact is far from why some avoid it. Schoenhut is well known for its acceptance of all manner of monster, creature, and demi-human.Shuichi is just a reclusive hunter that was once a detective. To be more exact, he's unfortunately a former human and current werewolf. He is also not so reclusive any longer.Purple eyes glitter like tiny and far too amused gems. Ouma Kokichi is a thorn in Shuichi’s metaphorical paw.A thorn far more pleasant than it should be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the mother of a grape gremlin uwu 
> 
> I never thought I'd write omegaverse stuff, and I know I didn't write it as per usual... Heats and all don't make things dubiously consensual here. They're just exaggerated and annoying levels of horny, being unable to not notice how hot ppl are, and all around messes where you end up being super honest to yourself. Etc. 
> 
> Also you can get super slutty during sex and just thirst for cum, but that's basically ever porn I write. Omegas will especially get demanding. Alphas tend to preen and flaunt themselves when in rut. Betas just get very huggy, and like cuddle sex.
> 
> But yeah that's the general gist of how I wrote dynamics here! 
> 
> Its 1:32 am I'm going to sleep.

Just a month has passed since the last caravan of travelers arrived. It isn't strange really, for the village of Schoenhut is deep within a barrier of woods. Although such a fact is far from why some avoid it. Schoenhut is well known for its acceptance of all manner of monster, creature, and demi-human. 

Shuichi has found himself both one of said monsters and a long term resident. He has not always been a werewolf, but now that does not matter. The once detective has long since adapted. When it comes down to it, his former home is not something that he resents. Despite the circumstances of everything, he enjoys his current life as a reclusive hunter who wilds his way across the forests. 

Which is currently impossible.

Purple eyes glitter like tiny and far too amused gems. Ouma Kokichi is a thorn in Shuichi’s metaphorical paw. 

This traveler with his strange scent, nameless but like wine and forge, has refused to leave. Human or otherwise is not something that Shuichi can tell. Only that Ouma is an irritating alpha. Shuichi can't even dislike it though, as even now the annoyance is welcome. He hasn't solved a mystery in ages. 

Except that today of all days is not the time to be around an alpha. 

"Why are you in my yard?" Shuichi tiredly states before glaring at an unlit bonfire.

"Your yard? My my, and here I thought that this was just a forest!" Ouma gasps, holding flint to his chest in obviously fake shock. "But if you want an answer, well, I fear I have none."

It's just as false as his shock, Shuichi notes. Yet as demanded by the lurking heat in his belly, and even his abnormally sensitive skin entirely, the werewolf merely gazes. He looks at how Ouma’s hair brushes again too pale skin. Shuichi’s eyes flow from here to there- unable to not notice the man's beauty. Oh, he always knows. Now he simply cannot allow the sight of Ouma to be shelved. 

Many call heats and ruts the worst of deliberations. Often because most are not truly left helpless from it at all. Instead one must go through their days cursed with, among other things, hair trigger arousal. An attention span dominated by attractions. Mocking dips into coy warmth. 

For a supposed gift from a Love Goddess, there's absolutely nothing gift-like about dynamics. Shuichi huffs out something of a growl before walking closer. He can smell that contrasting scent of hedonism and brutal warmth. Even the hints of mere sweat coiling around molten metal. Never has Shuichi experienced such a scent, but Ouma gives no straight answers. The other man is cryptic to his core. 

But he is an elegant and coy man as well... And would likely look wonderful with nothing on, lying supine on Shuichi’s bed. Lithe yet toned with muscles, ones suggesting Ouma would be quicker than any deer. 

Not an unfamiliar thought for the werewolf to have. Yet it is so embarrassing to have like this, his own mind stripped of politeness.

Ouma chuckles deep within his throat, "I have taken the liberty to bring a party to you. Of just us, so don't worry about too many faces! Tonight Saihara-chan will be relaxed and apart from loud... Business."

A trivial reassurance. Leaves and dirt crunch underfoot, betraying each footstep they both take. Shuichi himself merely sits down on a carved log bench. From there he watches Ouma dart from here to there to everywhere- like a particularly stunning pest. 

Golden eyes trail down to Ouma’s rear before quickly moving on. Having such stronger urges is no excuse to be untoward. Shuichi still can't help but feel himself itch, wanting to do nothing more than go back in time and try harder. Is Ouma trying to court him, is Ouma trying to be a friend, is Ouma absolutely bonkers for coming here while Shuichi is in heat-

The scent of a freshly dead turkey fills the air. Ouma says nothing while continuing to haul over a bag, thick with sturdy fabric and a large load. 

"Please tell me that you did not buy an entire bird just for this," Shuichi grunts, nose flaring as confusion sets in. The bird doesn't smell like those familiar last bursts of panic. Either Ouma is actually as good a hunter as Shuichi or he coaxed a wild animal into a state of total relaxation.

"Neehihihihi, but why would I tell you the answer to that? All Saihara needs to do is sit back and get pampered. While I figure out how to roast this over grown duck," is his succinct reply. "Just try guessing all the woods I've used."

Shuichi narrows his eyes at the odd and near husky tones used. He knows that Ouma is a trickster, and he understands that the man finds great daily pleasure in metaphorical riddles. Mostly because he is accurately called a living riddle. Well, Shuichi knows that such a judgment doesn't actually make sense. 

"You are absolutely infernal," he instead says with a sigh.

Ouma laughs outright at his statement, clearly delighted in a way that makes Shuichi yearn. 

The first thing that Shuichi notices is that there's a mixture of soft and hard woods. He can smell the scent of alder, cedar, and pine. Cedar is often what Shuichi himself cooks with, especially if he has gone fishing, so it's not a surprise to see. Oak as well- but there is also ash wood. Ash is hardly good for fires due to how quickly it burns. But to begin with, there's things which Shuichi cannot understand the purpose of. 

Birch twigs have no purpose in a bonfire. The chocolatey brown of Walnut is the same, alongside an odd but rich wood colored orange-red. Shuichi takes in more and more odd little details. Pine cones tucked mostly under split logs, an emerging pattern by which all of it is placed. The scent of it all is comforting and yet invigorating.

This is no mere collection of tinder and kindling, he decides after spotting flowers. 

Heats are devilish and horrible things, for Shuichi’s mind is jumping through hoops to figure out this puzzle. But he himself is someone that loves to learn. In the times where Ouma pulled him along into interactions, ones with fellow travelers or townspeople, Shuichi did hear of wood lore. Symbolic meanings and folklore passed down like traditions. It is not something he remembers well though. 

However, the birch twigs are something that Shuichi recalls very quickly. They are part of a somewhat odd custom where a couple exchanges them, at the start of formal courting and-

Shuichi hides his mouth with one hand just as Ouma triumphantly shouts, turkey flopping free from its bag.

Ouma Kokichi has either decided to create the world's most short lived art piece, or he's concocted the most hit or miss love confession to ever see the light of day. Not that there is much light in Shuichi’s little stretch of forest. All of it is dappled and dancing across Ouma’s smiling face, highlighting the deep royalty of his hair, and giving the borderline eerily pale man a glow. The werewolf can feel his pupils dilate as if taunted by raw meat on a full moon day. 

Just how dare this wanderer waltz in and act as though a prince, but Shuichi cannot gather real anger. He instead feels his heat rise like a living blanket of lusts. It's undeniable that he has caught himself doing this before. This, by which he means endless staring at Ouma. At the graceful neck mostly hidden by a checkered scarf, at the shapely legs which Shuichi now wants to be chased by, at that pristine white tunic and so much more. 

Each part of Ouma is a mystery which begs to be solved.

Now that mystery instead makes sly motions for another solution to another dilemma. 

Gulping, Shuichi remains quiet in the face of Ouma’s humming. He wants to graze his teeth along that nape and beg. 

When the fire starts it does so with a roar and whoosh, much bigger than Shuichi would normally expect from a flint and steel. But then, it's possible that Ouma is using some other kind of rock than a flint. Shuichi is starting to think some manner of spell is going to be cast on him. If only jokingly.

It is vexing to the point of it filling Shuichi with one feeling. Boiling. He is boiling over with unanswered questions and yearning pushed forward by heat. An omega in this position is far too cliche. Like the tawdry little romances which the werewolf hides behind his bookshelf, secret.

Shuichi can practically feel his ears twitch, though not a single part of him has shifted. 

"Tell me that you aren't going to just dump that turkey into the bonfire," the werewolf tiredly, and rhetorically, says to his lovely torment. 

Ouma looks to him with bright eyes and proceeds to do just as Shuichi said. He near throws the uncooked bird onto the flames, heedless of anything like culinary arts. The cackling pops continue unabated despite any disturbance. Indeed, the air fills with a myriad of pleasing scents.

"And here I thought you were trying to seduce me," Shuichi mutters while covering his eyes. It's not likely for that turkey to end up edible. Not for Ouma anyway, as werewolves can very well devour raw meat. Doing so is simply inadvisable due to parasites. 

A warm body settles down next to him, "So you've finally noticed, have you? How about my offer then?" 

Eager, over eager, but enticing in how Ouma’s voice purrs. Shuichi raises his head to stare at the smaller man. There is no mistaking the seductive arch of that smile. Ouma is positively radiating flirtatious and hopeful intentions. His eyes and his smile both speak it. 

"How exactly," he starts, "Could I not notice that you confessed your love to me using dead trees? After ensuring that I would at least possibly be able to divine your message. Ouma Kokichi, you are either utterly daft or of vicious intelligence."

But that is not an answer to the important question. No, Shuichi is attempting to circumvent that little bit of husky voice. Vital waves of warmth flow over him. Perhaps due to the alpha's closeness, and as an omega and werewolf it is impossible to ignore. Shuichi becoming a werewolf made him able to scent everyone no matter who is in heat or not. 

Humans only detect scent when in heat or rut. Shuichi however, oh no, he has been able to perfectly know how compatible Ouma is from the start. It's even more evident now that heat is upon him. 

Ouma smells amazing, glowing while the flames roar a comforting song.

Like sex more than merely sweat, perhaps. As if an endless forge is melting gold, as though his very being is made of the most lurid wine- and Shuichi has long wanted to bask in Ouma's unique fragrance. He wishes for nothing more than to bed this mysterious stranger. 

Heats are annoying for this exact reason. Nothing about Shuichi has the strength to mask his lusts. Carnal desires like these are suddenly undeniable. The man wants, and he wants in a way that he cannot ignore any longer.

"Do understand that I won't make an occasion of either response... I wouldn't try to mate you, and I wouldn't expect you to let it keep even if one of us bites in error!" Ouma eventually says with an even tone. It is not what the werewolf wants to hear. 

The werewolf's golden eyes dip down past a delicate cupids bow, Shuichi’s senses awash in sensory seductions. Desires seem to always be his weak point. Just the same as why he's in Schoenhut to begin with. He knows with full surety that he would not seek to end a bond with Ouma. No more than Shuichi resisted the urge to seek out that strange killer at night, and receive what he is now is as punishment.

Growls build up inside of Shuichi’s throat. His eyes narrowed into slits, to which Ouma looks at curiously, and soon he wishes it were a full moon. Shuichi wants to pin Ouma down and demand for answers to be given. There is so much that he does not understand, and so much which the werewolf can only suspect. 

"You have an aroma of brimstone," the former detective accuses. 

Ouma smiles, his eyes alive with beckoning hues of purple- amethyst and luxurious dyes fit for pleasure dens, "And what if I do? What if I don't? Saihara, why exactly does it matter and what do you expect from it?" 

It is but the usual deflection on the surface. Knowing better by now, Shuichi takes it as confirmation. He glances back towards the fire and its turkey gift. What, why, indeed the questions are not without purpose. The flames are twinned with those burning underneath Shuichi’s skin. 

The werewolf knows quite well why it matters to him. And he is not afraid to say it. 

"Because I want to see you as you are. If not in the capacity of your mind, as I doubt I'll ever fully witness that truth, then in body I would still prefer it," the werewolf pointedly intones to his vitriolically anointed Suiter.

Alphas, betas, and omegas tend to have different sub-notes to their scents. They become prominent during different times in which hormones are active. Shuichi knows this from years as a werewolf. He knows it now too, from both seeing and smelling how Ouma slowly grows restless in the best way.

Strong muskiness fills the air and mixes pleasantly with the refreshing sharpness of Shuichi’s own. 

Like that a little smile spreads across the werewolf's face. Shuichi’s narrowed eyes grow softer as that brimstone becomes apparent. Intuition is a tricky and often baseless thing. Yet here, it seems, the man's gut feeling was not too off. Ouma may just be an inviting devil after all.

"You are no doubt the most frustrating man I've met," Shuichi murmurs, allowing soft fingers to reach and run down the side of his face. The feeling send shocks of delight down his sensitive skin. As well as a warmth coy in its origins. "But I must admit I did not expect you to indeed be a demon."

Pale and pink lips, like rose petals, form a secretive grin, "Now now... You must not make assumptions of people. I will cry if Saihara is rude, you see. Ah, but perhaps you'd enjoy that?"

It is a purposeful taunt, or perhaps offer, yet the werewolf ignores it in favor of leaning in. Ouma matches him with a pleased exhalation. Their lips meet with all the heat-singing sensations that Shuichi expected. His nerves are alight just from the slightest brush, tingling with pleasure despite the kiss being chaste. So too is the emotional turmoil being put to rest- Shuichi’s heart resting easy while his body moves closer. 

Two arms wrap around Shuichi with firm yet lose weight. It makes his back stir the same as his lips, his heat addled brain near bursting with contentment. Shuichi parts from the kiss while one hand cradles his upper back. He drinks in aromatic smoke, crafted to smell like love and various well-wishes for a couple, and feels a formless warmth sink into him. 

Shuichi’s eyes travel up to the spiraling horns upon Ouma’s head, ones impressive yet not intimidating. The look of them is distinctly elegant, almost sinuous, and they serve to make the alpha look alluring. Just four curving back like brushes of paint. One set closer to now long pointed ears and the larger up top. 

"You shouldn't mind getting what you ask for, sir wolf," Ouma teasingly chides. He leans into the crook of Shuichi’s neck and nuzzles his face there, no doubt drinking in the scent. 

And that is what makes it all truly unbearable. 

Ouma welcomes a flustered and frustrated kiss. Then he easily moves a hand to the back of Shuichi’s head. With that he also slips a hand towards the omega's trousers, down and down a back tense with need. Clothing does nothing to hide the curious and burning touch. Shuichi can feel it all, he can feel it strongly, a storm for the senses. He is surrounded on all sides by this relentless attempt at courting, defeated. 

Crackles from the bonfire make him gasp against Ouma’s lips, and that is all they need. A wet tongue slyly licks at him just for the sake of it. It sparks an instinctive needs to do the same, and Shuichi is enjoying himself too much to resist. He licks back at the alpha as if an overly happy dog- whimpering when Ouma captures him into a kiss far more obscene. Such soft lips for someone so captivating. 

He sinks into the smaller man's embrace like that. Shuichi is lost to the wants brought to the surface by heat. An omega getting everything he's secretly desired… 

Storybook happiness. 

"This is too perfect to be real. Just- just take me to my bed, Ouma!" Shuichi dizzily grunts, feeling himself grow slick and restless. 

Like before, like always, Ouma laughs brightly and pulls Shuichi onwards. He waltzes them away from the love pyre and into Shuichi's homely cabin. It is not even a question of which room in the bedroom, Ouma seems just as home as Shuichi is. From that it is no surprise when Shuichi finds himself laying across his own sheets. 

Body dancing with sensory feedback- and Shuichi breaths unsteadily from the delight of Ouma staring down at him. It sparks happiness in small and primitive parts of his brain. Heats are so utterly vexing, so annoying and yet the werewolf can only fumble at his buttons. 

"My beloved Saihara Shuichi, whom I've searched for far and wide," Ouma murmurs, smooth and smug, his weight making the bed squeak. 

"Words like that have no sensible purpose!" the werewolf insists while ashen hands rip button from cloth. He glares upon hands, Ouma's dancing hands, as they turn inky like sin. 

It's a smoke which travels upwards in branches and dips, the faded edges of it betraying that same purple royal dye. Round and round like bands of dying embers. Shuichi watches the spread and takes in the flick of a heart-spade ended tail with mild interest. A demon, and an incubus to be exact. He always has a way with extraordinary trouble, but the hunter did not expect this. 

Even so, Shuichi says nothing about the slow and steady reveal. The man instead helps rid them of their clothing, body thumping with anticipation while fabric drifts to the floor. 

"There doesn't need to be a rhyme or reason to say it," Ouma claims once their nudity is on display. Those pitch fingers with their obsidian nails run across Shuichi’s collarbones. And then, silky slow, down to his sternum. "Whether you can divine a purpose, or think it another lie of mine. To have search for you for years, to have you in my eyes as a fancy flight, no one can say that either are true."

Ouma’s touch is not just pleasant, not just warm, it is fire and brimstone melted gold and mulled wine laced with poppy; his provided sensory input is sin. 

"Yet you profess to love me," the man whose mind is being whirled around firecrackers says. 

His breath hitches when those fingers whisper further down. It needn't be said of course, but Shuichi’s arousal is obvious now. Enough that Ouma can most certainly smell it. Precum and slick aren't anything near subtle. Those purple eyes also race down skin and hair, gazing excitedly at Shuichi’s happy trail. 

Shuichi can only hope that his lover for today holds back any comments about his prodigious 'fur'. It's embarrassing enough to go from near hairless to shaving ones face twice a day. Werewolfdom is nothing to scoff at. Omegas with such body hair aren't exactly the usual for humans. 

"Awww, my beloved wolfman is fuzzy! How endearing to feel… but just being around you might be invigorating" Ouma smiles knowingly and reaches up to caress Shuichi’s face. "Turn over for me, darling?" 

What else can he do but listen, Shuichi ponders while obeying that sweet and deep voiced request. His brain is primitively crooning in delight while he does. Exposing himself- showing off his opening from start to finish. Shuichi tucks his head into his pillow after bracing himself on arms and knees. The slick escaping him trickles down well muscled thighs. 

Fingers gently grope at the expanse before them. Then, Ouma letting out a pleased grunt, two strong hands massage Shuichi’s rear like they own it. And perhaps they do in this moment. Shuichi certainly feels rather owned, what with the incubus above and behind him surveying him with glee. More of a deep and steady kneading continues to lull him. It seems as though Ouma cannot hold back from seductions even now. 

More thoughts clog up the werewolf's mind. The majority of them screams. Demands left unsaid, for how can Ouma make him wait like this, but the man holds them well. 

Tension disappears in favor of them both basking. Ouma's pride is palpable in the air, mixing with heat-slick and precum and more. All of which goes straight to Shuichi’s head despite the pillow. He knows quite well what the other man wants from him. Shuichi has no will left to deny Ouma, has no wish to regardless, and so he lifts his head. Gathers up each speck of his lust and excited shame. 

"H-haaaauu!" he whines, flushing when Ouma chuckles behind him, mouth wide open and eyes half closed. 

No one has ever heard of such an embarrassing noise from him before. Shuichi can't help but feel even more sensitive afterwards. Or perhaps Ouma’s touch is simply that enthralling. 

And what a touch it is, that sublime sin tracing down the mounds of Shuichi’s ass just to rub at his hole. Ouma laughs again when a sharp whimper rises from the omega. Likewise, Shuichi’s mind fuzzed out completely while more and more slick escapes him. It drips out freely against the fingers caressing, endlessly both, and Shuichi’s body begins to rock back. 

He wants more of that hedonistic feeling to be spilt into his skin. Craves it, needs it the same way which he has noticed Ouma since that first day. A simple and pure want that comes alongside any potential for satisfaction. Ouma is a beautiful man and Shuichi would very much like more- more-

"Prevent yourself from taunting me or I'll pin you down and ride you the way I've dreamt of!" Shuichi growls, snarling and letting his teeth grind naked against the fabric below him.

Those fingers grow cease their coy movements against Shuichi’s sphincter. 

"Oooh," Ouma carefully dips in a single finger, just slides right in, with no resistance; and Shuichi’s head rises with a wordless shudder overtaking him- "My beloved Saihara Shuichi must surely get what he most desires then. I'll fuck you until all you can do is howl like a vapid bitch."

Shuichi moans freely when that finger just as easily slips out from him. To feel Ouma inside of him may well be the werewolf's undoing. 

Heavenly touches spread the omega's ass cheeks apart. An oxymoron which Shuichi’s mind fixates on. What else can he think, when Ouma has gone from rubbing with his digits to the head of his cock? Shuichi’s voice forms a guttural huff deep within his throat. It leaves him like a true wolf's growl. That at least makes Ouma pause, quite motionless, and his dick feels large enough for Shuichi’s eyes to widen. 

It rests against him while both men come to face one another. Sultry, both erotic and searing, is all Shuichi can use to describe the atmosphere between them. 

"An incubus… shouldn't take his time when a werewolf is submitting before him," the hunter pants while his heat rages. He'll surely go insane with desire like this. Ouma's touch shall make him drunk with want, and Shuichi’s heart too will be consumed by wanton flames. Although he won't say it, wouldn't dare, the werewolf cannot wait for this act to become his pyre. 

"You're right~!"

Golden eyes roll back while startled moaning fills Shuichi’s ears. At first he cannot recognize them as his own, but he can make out a grin upon Ouma’s face. 

The expression is one both of mocking and relieved pleasure. From that Shuichi’s mind claws itself down to earth. Shuichi can hear his growing claws rend yet another pillow to shreds, can feel animalistic canines shift into place, but more than ears and tail is this; the werewolf can hear himself babbling like a whore. 

All from Ouma’s prick sinking into his ass like it belongs, and Shuichi’s lungs struggle to keep up as he whimpers, "Please! Please cum in me, cum in me cum in me, Ouma just go deeper-" 

"My word! You didn’t last long at all now did you? Just how pent-up have you been over me," Ouma murmurs, body adapting to Shuichi’s rapid attempts at humping. "But I don't need to know. Saihara is releasing allll of his repressed sexual needs, just for me, you're so delicious and sweet!" 

Fur thick and the same navy as Shuichi’s hair covers muscular arms, legs, and travels up Shuichi spine. He feels lost and free and absolutely feral. But he shifts no further than that, for the moon is not yet ripe. Hormones and Incubus touch, alpha scent- induced change can only go so far. Yet Shuichi’s body is still singing for more than Ouma's languid thrusts. The omega wants so much more. 

Please, he whimpers and yelps uncontrollably. 

Claws scratch and tear at worn fabric. Ouma sighs with overwhelming fondness, and those hands the color and feel of temptation grip tight onto Shuichi’s hips. 

One thrust is so rough and deep that Shuichi’s sight goes white. Another comes right after, making him groan while smiling like a fool. Then more, just the way that the werewolf whispers, Ouma's thick cock pounds into him. So much that the bed squeaks and shudders beneath them. It makes Shuichi's head fall against cloth scraps and feathers, his hazy eyes unseeing in the face of physical rapture. 

"You've gotta go h-harder on me, I can take anything at all… Ouma," Shuichi moans, whining when that throbbing tool bottoms out within him. 

Inside of him is so very full, a gleeful thought born from Shuichi’s mind. That same mind now is attacked by merciful sensations. Merciless, as well, the words having the same meaning to him. His ruined linen sheets and bonfire and mixing scents… All form a perfect pair for Ouma's looming body. 

Sweat brings their aroma fully into the air. 

Never before has Shuichi experienced such a perfect heat. Annoying, but even that thought is washed away by waves and waves of gratification. His inner walls tighten and pulse, slick as they surround Ouma with what must be a wonderful feeling. Those purple eyes are so very pleased with the omega. Something which fills Shuichi with instinctive pride, his base urges making him glad to share such pleasure. 

"Let's see…" the demon mutters. 

More thrusts send the man into a fever as Ouma changes his aim. This time Shuichi gets fucked even deeper, and he can feel himself spasming while his eyes roll back once more. Intensity- it's too much. Shuichi’s voice falters in favor of animalistic whimpers. His cock throbs and pulses, precum dripping onto the bed sheets with no sign of stopping. 

Again and again, Ouma slamming himself closer to Shuichi’s prostate. 

"Ouma… mate," the werewolf slurs, falsely intoxicated by the dick spreading his soaked ass open. Then he leers, verbal filter well and truly dead as he croons, "Mate me, you need to mate me! Just bite me a little bit so I can cum, knot me and make me cum~!" 

The other man leans down until they lay flush, Ouma's weight heavy and dominating. Shuichi’s joy is so instantaneous that he yips just like the vapid bitch that Ouma implied him to be. When teeth ghost across his neck, oh, the omega writhes as blood rushes to his ears. Obscenities fill his mind while squelches fill the room once more. 

Burning clamps down into Shuichi's neck. 

His nose fills with hell and over-consumption. 

"I'll fill you as you ask, my beloved wolfman. I'll paint you white with my seed and watch you squirm, leaking and overwhelmed!"

Each vein and contour of the dick fucking him becomes omnipresent. 

Shuichi rides out his orgasm, howling in the way only a half shifted werewolf can, a wreck moving back and forth just for the sake of overstimulation. The only self-aware or meaningful thoughts he has are simple. He has wanted this for so very long. He has craved this release for years. He has needed this endless coil and twist of ecstasy for so long, but has been too fearful to seek it. Now Shuichi’s mind is melting out from him in an endless hymn of, yes- yes- yes. 

Metallic hints waft around the room like a coy promise. And with that, Ouma's own moans hit a loving crescendo. His cock twitches within Shuichi’s limp yet convulsive body. Content to merely lay and experience more, the werewolf grins with elation as Ouma makes true on that promise. Golden eyes just barely spot blood on the incubus's lips too. 

Yet the most important thing is how what seems like an endless amount of semen is spurting into him. Shuichi indeed squirms, feeling thick and plentiful fluids heat him up even further. He almost wishes to taste it as well- for the scent is just as tempting at Ouma himself. 

The werewolf revels in how his mate grunts into him. Ouma breathes sharply, his knot slowly swelling, hissing and clicking throughout his orgasm. Soon his shallow thrusts become useless tugs. With that there's the feeling of Shuichi’s body locking down. Biology obliging, both of them stuck in a pleasurable torment. 

"Ha. You went into rut while fucking me," Shuichi observes. Licking his lips, the werewolf stretches just to see Ouma’s face. He finds himself staring at eyes just as drunk as Shuichi thinks he feels. 

It is strange but not at all off-putting to see. 

"Tell me just one thing, Saihara?" Ouma mutters, obviously stifling both pleasure and discomfort. 

The werewolf blinks, ears and tail twitching, but he also nods. 

"Should a newborn demon, lost between hell and the mortal earth, have one day taken to cause mischief," the incubus begins, a sly and easy smile on his lips, "And picked the form of a village girl… made a racket of some false claims. Only for a boy to not only provide comfort but defy all logic by solving the problem, finding an alligator in the mountains- to which the demon finds itself in love. Saihara, what would you say?" 

A memory. 

One that brings Shuichi out of his satisfaction made sea. But so too does it bring him an odd yet acceptable warmth. He considers the boldfaced implications, and the detective in him can only shrug. Shuichi further compartmentalizes him thusly: 

The omega in him is luxuriating in the afterglow of heat-sex. The wolf in him is lounging in the sensory feast tuned to court him. The man in him is merely goop lost to exhilaration. The hunter demands that he never let Ouma go. 

"Well, I'd say that you'd best let me bite that neck of yours."

"Ahhh?! Believing a lying and evil hell spawn like myself? That's truly your answer?"

Right answers do not always exist. Often one must continually search for them. But now, in this moment, Shuichi sees Ouma’s smile and feels him relax into their embrace. The omega grumbles warningly and pulls the incubus even closer. His teeth settle just above a scent gland. 

Ouma’s mating gasps are sweet.


	2. Tooth and Claw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daily life with your Incubus mate, morning edition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh I wanted to have Shuichi be a bit more dominant but Kokichi was hungry af. I sprinkled in some world building too. Also, the breakfast Shuichi makes is an actual Victorian dish! I had fun looking at cast iron stoves and woodland cabins...

He awakens to a soft tail flicking against his collar bones. Then, hazy minded, Shuichi turns his head and stares at a still slumbering incubus. Nostrils flare as hedonist smithery smooths away the man's drowsiness. Shuichi then watches as the dim dawn rays filter past curtains- his lover continuing to to sleep as the sun begins to rise. Inky black finds itself kissed gently, a smile forming against Kokichi's hand. 

Time for breakfast. 

Yawning, the werewolf allows the now fading moon to call out his ears and tail. The next few days will see him experiencing a full moon again. Shuichi huffs and rubs his eyes while pushing himself up. He glances over towards pale skin wrapped with endless markings. Kokichi smiles momentarily in his sleep, grabbing hold of Shuichi’s still warm pillow. 

A plain button down later and Shuichi is stumbling towards the small kitchen. His tail swishes while coals are carefully shoved into the stove. It's a rather big one, considering the admittedly meager size of the cabin, which is due to how he splurged in order to take it with him. Schoenhut is a rather grand town to live. 

Save for, of course, the distance from other signs of civilization- and thusly the harsh truth; Shuichi is lucky to have brought such amenities since he would otherwise have none. 

When and how would his beloved guilty pleasures come to him otherwise? Schoenhut does not have much in ways of coffee paraphernalia. Costs would be prohibitive. 

It is already much more expensive to simply purchase beans, Shuichi notes. 

Gold eyes peer down into a near empty tin. The hunter gathers up the necessary amount just as he stretches, hearing cracks and pops. He resolves to buy a somewhat better bed at some point. Freshly ground coffee slowly graces the air with a comforting aroma. 

Like this, Shuichi starts the day and waits for familiar sounds. He eventually grabs a pan after allowing the stove to warm. Butter and then cooked rice fill it, while various other ingredients are pulled from the ice box. 

Kokichi's waking sounds take the form of pages turning on this morning. 

Wolfen ears twitch while Shuichi himself glances up and out a window- daylight truly breaking. 

"Saiharaaaa Shuichi, I fear that your novels are hilarious!" comes a not unfamiliar cry, joining the sounds of a still cooking breakfast. Crackling flames and sizzles of butter complement bubbles of laughter. Kokichi squeaks, "Oh noooo! This is simply awful, 'With these fists I will carry the joy and hope of freedom as I rele' - this is ridiculous!" 

It was actually a very touching moment, but Shuichi finds himself snickering. Kokichi's delight in sharing his comedic interpretations are entertaining. Sometimes annoying, often purposeful, but the myriad of narrations that Shuichi hears is a treat. The man gently folds milk poached fish into butter soaked rice. He watches it brown while happily sniffing. 

Gold eyes narrow as keen ears hear the bed squeak. 

Footsteps quietly creak against wood floors. A bird starts chattering outside, two squirrels chitter while running across branches- Kokichi's arms wrap around Shuichi from behind. Wine is a scent to which Shuichi wakes to each morning. He is too comforted by the slowly encroaching brimstone, and upon coming home from hunts he is relaxed by it. 

Thus that Kokichi makes it stronger when embracing him simply garners a smile. The omega hums at how the smaller man rests against his spine. Alas, Shuichi merely adds a mixture of cream and egg to their breakfast. 

"Let me add the spices?" Kokichi soon asks as he peaks at the stove. 

A huff and twitch of ears, "Did you not say that dinner would be your job today? I can handle tossing in pepper."

Kokichi's hands rub soothingly against hip and arm, the incubus nonchalantly humming. Looking over at him reveals an intent stare. The hunter quickly adds salt and pepper while making sure that the egg doesn't overcook. He then removes the cast iron pan from the stove, Kokichi a warm weight, and places the food onto ceramic plates. 

Incubus. 

No demon can outright and upfrontly admit their love. Likewise, no succubus or incubus may directly request sex. Demons do not natively exist in the world, not in the way Kokichi does now. They are incursions for which special rules must be followed- because their existences are not ones of flesh and blood. 

Ouma Kokichi can no more speak truthfully now than he could then. Not regarding his feelings and certain needs. Thus Shuichi remembers fondly that bonfire, and leans down to capture those petal pink lips. 

There's an immediate burst of need, obvious and strong, in which Kokichi surges into Shuichi's space without hesitance. 

"You're hungry," the werewolf murmurs, welcoming the other man's near rabid affection. Soft lips quickly bring a feeling of skin only drunkenness to him. Afterwards, Shuichi finds the taste of mulled wine. Kokichi remains wordless yet loud- panting and murmuring like a man starved. 

Just a deep and gentle whisper of, "Yes…"

Heartbeats later and the men are both backed into a corner. Up against the wall, Kokichi near devours their breath via kiss. It is not an unwelcome sort of breathlessness for either of them. The sounds of their act begins to fill the room with similar noises. Loud smacks, deep exhales, and the growing frequency of groans. Kokichi makes no attempt to hide how pleased he is. 

Pale hands sneak under Shuichi’s button down. Meanwhile they are both near sliding to the floor- absolute messes. Breakfast will most certainly be eaten cold now. Though Kokichi himself will likely be eating his meal quite warm. Firewood crackles in the stove, pairing with the alpha's decadent scent. Shuichi feels the slickness of Kokichi's tongue wrap around his own. It makes his tail thump shamelessly against the wall. 

For not the first time there is a musing within him. 

Whether or not he tastes of dessert or the meat which he hunts. If Kokichi experiences him through a lense of werewolf-hunter, or perhaps the once detective who drinks coffee while sneaking the occasional snack of not-too-sweet-cheese-tart. 

Either way, Kokichi and his languid heat are always far more needy during times like this. That never yielding furnace within him is burning bright. Smoky while mulled wine pours down skin, all held just below Kokichi's pitch black fingers. Royal purple bleeds around snaking edges as always. 

Shuichi’s own hands begin to caress those marks, his touch faint. His tail thumps against the floor, relentless,"Bed?" 

Kokichi breaks away from him and stares almost blankly. The incubus's pupils are practically round, his jaw slack and his body poised for a pounce. Yet nothing can mask the carnality of his growing grin. A snicker fills Shuichi’s ears while the stove abruptly ceases. 

"Why I thought--truly thought! That you'd never ask, my beloved," the incubus gasps as if starstruck. Afterwards he gasps because Shuichi is hoisting him up, tails intertwining, and Kokichi laughs lowly while clinging. Lips press into the crown of his head as well.

One near clawed hands squeezes Kokichi's ass, feeling the soft flesh and electing a short squeal.

Walking back to the bedroom is a quick affair. The cabin slash cottage is not especially large by any means, having only enough space for a small kitchen and living area in addition to a bedroom. For a bathroom there is a small sliver, like a closet. His bedroom door is a curtain which swishes around them. Shuichi can't find himself upset by it. A far cry from his flat in a much larger town, yes, but currently it takes nary a minute to cross.

A smug smile meets the werewolf's gaze, Kokichi resting both on the bed and within Shuichi’s hold. They kiss while the mattress squeaks underneath. Definitely needs replacing, and a chuckle forms when the hunter dwells on why. He and his mate are most certainly lowering the beds lifespan.

"Mmm... Shuichi should let me ride him," Kokichi murmurs softly, purple eyes glinting, "I reaaally want to show you just how exciting it is. Feeling you so deeply, within my core."

Shuichi cannot help his instinctive flush. He gently pulls Kokichi's too warm hands away, silently undressing and watching as the other man does the same. Long and endless black covers the alpha. His alpha- skin forever painted like a living art piece. Including that stalwart bite scars just upon the nape of Kokichi's neck.

Neither of the men have made a move to undo their mating bond. Those simple bites that mean so much, and the way they will always carry one another's scents, are not permanent. At some point they will need to be renewed. But neither Shuichi nor Kokichi have expressed interest in anything but the later.

Wet sounds fill the air while Shuichi is stuck staring at his feet.

Gold eyes glance up at pitch fingers, and how Kokichi's hands are full of almost sharp smelling lubrication. The demon looks over at him with a trickster's grin.

"I see that you are disinterested in my jar of oil. But magical lube summoning?" Shuichi asks with a tired kind of fondness.

"Nishishi, I am a sex demon after all. If I can't be efficient, then what exactly can I be? Perish the thought of using common bought products," is his reply, which comes alongside a fair bit of huffs. Kokichi is quick to work the lube into himself, coy as his fingers sink in.

The hunter soon lays himself back onto the bed. He stares up at a flicking tail, and then at Kokichi's face. A sweet expression betrayed by lewd actions. Of course, it is only fitting that an incubus would be so tempting- already posed like a character from a pornographic wooden cutout. Shuichi idly pumps his cock just as purple eyes dart towards him.

Giggling, Kokichi shuffles forward just to plant a wet kiss upon the head of his mate's prick. Embarrassment and anticipation skyrocket as a near obsessed gaze locks onto it. Shuichi is still not so used to being the object of someone's earnest desire. He is unaccustomed to the heat, the attention, and the way Kokichi's hands trace signals down bare thighs.

"Poor little Shumai, not getting to fill me up with yummy cum," the incubus murmurs even as he smooches the erection. Each touch feels like a localized wave of pleasure. Kokichi knows that full well, eyes never parting from the werewolf's gaze, "I'll have to fix that… Right, Shuichi? My mate wants to fuck his alpha, right?" 

His cheeks burn with the same anticipation coiling in his stomach. 

Shuichi licks his lips and watches those tattoo covered legs move. He can both smell and see Kokichi's arousal- in addition to carnal desperation. Eyes drift back up to a smirking face, "Your mate is… certainly not opposed. But I'll have a slight knot even though I'm an omega, since I'm a werewolf, and-"

His tail gladly betrays his inner excitement- wagging as much as possible.

The cabin is full with beguiling scents now, ones that Shuichi feels no need to ignore. Both of his hands settle on the other man's hips. Likewise he stops talking when Kokichi starts grinning like someone who has found a cache of gold. It's obvious from that same grin too, that the incubus is more than aware and simply finds it erotic. 

"For a love Goddess, she played far more with biology. Human based reproduction, werewolf dick, and who knows where self lubricating asses came from. But I'm not complaining about a Goddess crying out, Free love!- and then enforcing it onto reality. Mmmm, I'm actually really thankful. Ha…"

Wide eyes dart from a babbling mouth to spread legs. Shuichi rubs his fingers against the soft skin, grunting when pure heat envelops him. Only a relieved snicker could be heard for just a moment. Above him, Kokichi closes his eyes and slowly sinks down. 

Down and down until their bodies are flush together. 

Becoming so interlocked is always an intense treat. It is only by virtue of no heat and self control that Shuichi stays still. Yet his teeth grind together, fangs protruding, a long gone yet nearly full moon still calling to his blood. He usually gives into the full moons by assuming the form of a wolf. Now, however, he cannot help but imagine holding onto a more human form and experiencing a different kind of feral night. 

Kokichi petting his forehead is certainly a grand memory to have regardless. 

Endless heat captures Shuichi’s mind, like a whisper speaking to his lust. His eyes focus on a parallel gaze which shines like gems. Shuichi always becomes a poor poet during sex. That, or he loses all sense of etiquette due to both heat and the touch of a loving incubus. 

Rather unavoidable and somewhat to his tastes. 

Slick inner walls tense up around the werewolf, Kokichi teasing him, and then the other man begins to bounce. Just once with little care in his movements. Kokichi groans with a dazed smile at the feeling. Hands clenching, Shuichi swallows wordless at that sound. It seems like Kokichi is far too wanton to go slow. 

"Always so much better," the incubus says, "When it's right inside… Filling me up with all of your lusts, all of Shuichi’s precious feelings. Licking up your semen later just isn't the same."

"Please tell me I can thrust," Shuichi near begs. Both of his hands serve as steadying reminders. Yet Kokichi shakes his head, perhaps in the mood to do all the action himself. It makes Shuichi sigh, his ears drooping, but not only from the inability to help his mate. Kokichi will likely demand pampering all day. 

Kokichi hums, languidly rolling his hips, "As someone who came into existence from a sea of desires, I don't like seeing you deny yourself."

I told you didn't I, is what Shuichi remembers Kokichi saying. That one little tip toe around inborn rules. A near confession, harkening back to an undeniable truth, that the incubus allowed Shuichi ultimately judge. He often recalls it. 

He chose to believe Kokichi's hypothetical and has yet to regret it. 

The former detective takes a more solid hold of Kokichi's waist and hips, to which the man shudders. His own night sky hands ghost across that hold. Kokichi has no need to support himself now. So instead he begins to move. First slowly and then rapidly while panting fills the room. Nothing is so intensely gratifying as Kokichi's touch. 

Except, of course, for the layers of indulgence born from the man's scent. Shuichi thrusts upwards and allows gravity to do its work. He watches Kokichi throw his head back with a moan, insides twitching and body bouncing. The mattress borderline screams beneath them. All the werewolf manages to consider is thus- Kokichi's skin glimmering with sweat while his chest heaves. 

Pleasure is both Kokichi's goal and his tool. It is in each place where they touch. That decadent feeling of silk and wine, boiling in between them. Inside of the incubus is that same inferno. Written in the margins of Kokichi's artful markings is luxury. Shuichi can even see it in the bobbing of the alpha's cock.

Shuichi basks under the weight of it all and tightens his grip. 

A short mewl trickles out from bitten lips, and purple eyes stare down at the hunter. Movement slows into a series of steady dips and smooth rising. Kokichi's ever present grin is transforming into a strained yet crisp sort of smile. The sort belonging to a man getting what he wants. He sinks to the base of Shuichi’s cock, and seems to spasm there, hands twitching in the air. 

Faint grinding makes both men hiss. 

"Much… Better! Needs more though," he happily pants while idly rubbing just below his belly. "You taste like you'll orgasm any moment now. I wanna milk you! I'll milk out each bit."

It's an almost vicious tone, one born from obscenity and coated in determination. Shuichi lasts only a second before thrusting. He rolls his hips and feels himself reaching deep- producing a strangled groan. The incubus definitely gets the idea though. 

Kokichi's ass has a near vice grip on Shuichi’s cock. Matched by a smug little smirk, those purple eyes narrow and burning like everything else. Impish is how the werewolf would refer to it. All of which is wiped from Shuichi’s mind when something slick and soft rubs against his ass. The man pauses just before nodding frantically.

Demons such as Kokichi are always ready to go, needing minimal preparation, but werewolves cannot say the same for themselves. Kokichi's gentle manner makes this clear. He slowly and carefully works his tail inside, giving Shuichi the torture of two bodies suspended mid-sex. The sheer warmth and addictive tightness alone makes him whimper.

There's also the slowly forming knots. It is paid no mind, Kokichi instead rolling his hips forward in faint waves. His black-plum hair sticks to sweaty skin and flutters in the air. Art, certainly, and art that is relentlessly a tease.

Shuichi’s throat finally allows his noises and words to spill over.

"Please just move-" he grunts, shuddering as that delightful feeling of sin enters him. "I don't care how or which part, just fucking move."

What happens next is the almost mindless stimulation of his prostate. Kokichi wastes no time in finding it, and the incubus even laughs in delight as how his mate whines. Shuichi’s desperate thrusting is clearly like a delicious treat to the other man. There is nothing quite like the cornucopia between them- and Shuichi’s whole body aflame with pleasure. 

His voice rising with each thrust, the hunter's hips shudder as they slam against the mattress. Even the alpha is beginning to give into such things. Bouncing, Kokichi is growing tighter and hotter while his muscles tremble. The tail caressing Shuichi’s most sensitive spot grows intolerably fast. It rubs and swirls and even jabs, no mercy provided. 

Guttural aspects arise within their voices. More and more, hissing and moaning, not even the squeaking of the bed can drown them out. Both men are basking within each frenzied slap of skin upon skin, sweat and sex a motivating combination for more. 

A shriller kind of moan echoes inside of Shuichi’s ears. He recognizes it as belonging to him, but he's murky with single-minded focus. 

Cumming, the werewolf wants nothing more than to relieve the need burning up inside of him. Pinprick pupils stare up at a vision of hell and heaven, Kokichi's face overtaken by carnal hunger. Shuichi tightens his hold on hips adorned with ebony. To which hands of the same hue grab him just to stay upright. 

"Need… Shui-Shuichi’s cum!" and the incubus whimper-groans, as his hips plummet and his ass is a warm vice, his ecstasy causing a constant inner pulse. Those normally sharp eyes are a deep purple now, the same royalty as the wisps trailing up from pitch ink. Kokichi's body smells of skin upon skin mixing with opiate smoke, deadly opulence. 

From the corners of that tight pulled mouth comes hints of drool, eyebrows furrowed, Kokichi's form both tense and so very boneless. His knot is fully swollen and flushed red as his erection twitches in the air. Shuichi is helplessly engulfed with that same body's heat, the most wonderful hell he can imagine. 

Writhing away inside of him is yet another pleasure born torture- and finally the werewolf's pounding, frantic, hips stutter until Shuichi is holding Kokichi to the base of his cock. Their pelvises are flush together as the other man mutters endless joy. Feed me, feed me. Shuichi can scarcely register the resulting gasps, his orgasm reducing the hunter into a puddle of satisfaction. 

Even so, his throbbing cock alone can't take away the now painfully good feeling of Kokichi's tail. With each rope of cum comes yet more attention. 

It seems that Kokichi's promise is being kept. 

"More is only fair," Kokichi murmurs weakly, head laying onto Shuichi’s chest. The werewolf agrees, clinging, feeling the alpha's knot pressing against his stomach while cum spreads across sweaty skin. 

And so more is wrung from him without a speck of hesitation or disagreement to be seen. Shuichi shivers, shudders a quivers, eyes rolling back while his cock continues to empty itself. Each nerve feels as though Kokichi is fire, that spiced wine bringing flames with it. Once Kokichi laughed about being compared with molten gold, but now Shuichi can only call him molten lust. 

His own knot does little to force them together. It does, however, mean that near nothing of Shuichi’s cum escapes. Even when the rest of him is finally soft. Yet Shuichi is still wracked with the feeling of orgasmic bliss. 

By the time it ends there is only an empty-headed feeling of completion. Shuichi’s asshole and cock both twitch when Kokichi disengages, the man solidly drained. 

"You… Ate until overfull," he scolds, limp against the bed and hypersensitive. The werewolf's tail tucks itself just barely between his legs, as he rolls onto his side. Shuichi huffs out a laugh at his own words. "Not that I mind. Just- breakfast?" 

Kokichi looks down at him and smiles brightly, pale skin flushed while his demonic tells vanish. It's surprising that his horns never manifested though. The werewolf squints but finds his brain uncooperative. A soft and strong hand comes to his face, Kokichi's fingers gentle, resting on an overheated cheek. He then leans down to kiss and lick at Shuichi’s mouth, rubbing wolfen ears that flick upwards after being tucks against his head. 

"Still warm on the plates and ready to be eaten. I'll get you water too! Just focus on regaining feeling in your legs for me," Kokichi cheerfully says. He hops out of the bed without a hint of exhaustion.

Lips twitching, Shuichi laughs wholeheartedly while watching his mate waltz off.

**Author's Note:**

> I got so into this au I even doodled them. It's on my twitter @Lilicatte.


End file.
